


Atypical Tuesday Night

by sleepy_sendhelp



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: BEST friends to lovers hekhek, Emma is Soft, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Julian is Soft, Julian’s not traumatized, he deserves this cmon, its all so soft as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:46:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25708414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepy_sendhelp/pseuds/sleepy_sendhelp
Summary: They could’ve stayed in their warm and intimate bubble uninterrupted, alas —- they were interrupted.orsweet blackstairs fic b/c they deserve it
Relationships: Julian Blackthorn & Emma Carstairs, Julian Blackthorn/Emma Carstairs
Kudos: 31





	Atypical Tuesday Night

**Author's Note:**

> wrote it with Taylor Swift’s You Belong With Me in mind, hek (but the story isn’t really connected to the song)

He opened the door to find Emma on the other side, armed to the teeth with chips and her small bag of things was handed to him by Jem who kissed Emma’s forehead good bye and went off to drive away with Tessa and Will. 

Julian asessed his best friend, the amount of food she had may have seemed excessive to an outsider, but anyone who knew the Blackthorns knows that you don’t show up to their packed house without a sacrifical offering for the rest of the family even if you were only there for one of them. 

He stepped aside to let her in and motioned for her to be quiet. With Helen and Aline upstairs, Mark on a date, and the rest of the siblings all surprisingly asleep somewhere around the house, the residence was uncharacteristically peaceful. He helped her quietly place the snacks on the nearest table —— writing a sibling’s name on their preferred snack in bright permanent marker so no one got any ideas about stealing food and launching another unnecessary investigation which always preceeded a full out sibling-council hearing and prosecution. 

They crept towards the art studio, Emma avoided all the creaking floorboards with the ease of someone who spent the better part of her childhood sliding around in the same hallways in the dead of night while clad in her mismatched socks, gripping the scrawny arms of the boy who held her tight enough to keep her from shattering when the world crumbled around her at the loss of her parents. 

Emma shook her head, afternoons and warm sunsets always made her sentimental. 

Walking behind Julian now, who was so far and yet not really, from the small boy she once stumbled upon getting a bucket of paint dumped on his head, and seeing how much they’ve grown and grown together -— her breath catches and she thinks that a silhouette shouldn’t make her feel so much, but she knows it’s not so much the shadow as the shape of the mop of hair that she’d run her fingers through enough times for her to know where the worst knots form after an afternoon nap, as well as the bleary ocean-green stare that carefully watched the way she rubbed the sleep from her own eyes, containing inexplicable tenderness that would’ve knocked the breath out of her if she wasn’t careful. 

The soft click of the opened door snapped her out of her thoughts. 

The Blackthorn’s art room was an intimate museum, various portraits of family and friends depicted from charcoal sketches to oil paintings were hung around the walls and propped up on shelves. The sun entered through the floor to ceiling glass wall that faced the beach, washing the room in soft oranges and pastel pinks that pressed on the gentle weight constricting her chest. 

“So..?” 

“I need help with everything.” 

Julian snorted. He didn’t understand why Emma chose the arts & crafts elective when she didn’t have one creative bone in her body. 

They set their canvases up in companionable silence, moving in sync and weaving around each other —— a dance they’ve mastered from all the years of Emma coming over to spend her evenings with Julian doing just about anything they could think of. 

“Do you think Mrs. Jocelyn would kill me this time if I submitted another sunset painting?” 

“Why not pass a sunrise painting instead?” Julian thinks he’s so clever... he’s not. Not today anyway. Emma pretended not to hear anything and took out sunset colored poster paints, she bit back a smile at seeing Julian shake his head fondly. 

Thus begins their typical Tuesday evening— or more accurately, their typical any day evening. 

The routine begins when soft music and banter filled the space, along with the intermittent telltale crunching of snacks. It was home. 

Emma’s eyes were squinted, as it does whenever she focuses on something. Julian uses this to his advantage, sneaking up from behind her and softly squeezing her sides. 

“Boo.” 

Emma flinches and releases a strangled, choked off noise, slapping Julian with her paint brush in the process. She huffs, pursing her lips to try and fight the grin from breaking out on her face while she rubs the afflicted area and mock glares the blue spattered Julian who’s munching on his snacks smugly. 

“Can I help you?” Emma tried to frown, she really did, but trying not to smile whenever Julian’s around is like willingly doing her homework; she just can’t do it. 

“I was serious about the sunrise idea you know. Have a little range Emma.” He smirks and tugs at the seaglass bracelet she made him, a sign that he’s pushing her buttons on purpose. He’s probably bothering her because he’s finished painting first, as always. Show off. 

“Mrs. Jocelyn said to paint something you love, and you know I love sunsets, I’m not a liar Julian.” 

“Then why a sunset over the ocean? Why not a sunset over some mountains? Or a forest?” 

“Because, I love... you know, the ocean.” 

“Oh look, a lying liar who lies, why am I not surprised.”

“It’s true!”

“It is not, I know you hate the ocean!” 

“No I don’t, who told you that?” 

“You did.” 

There was a pregnant pause, both remembering the reason for Emma’s fear of the ocean. She went rigid, eyes trained on the beach where the sun is slowly sinking and bringing its last rays with it. To anyone else, Emma’s shiver and soft sigh would’ve been imperceptible, but Julian wasn’t anyone else. He watched her as she turned back to her canvas, and continued painting the ocean in her picture with careful strokes. 

The silence was stifling, and Julian’s ears ringed. Her grief at the memory emanated from her, and he knew he had to do something. After helping her through the worst of her grief, their usual time together was rarely silent like this anymore. He placed his bag of chips on the island behind him.

“I’m sorry.” Julian said, after loosely wrapping his arms around her waist. His head rests on her shoulder after pressing a tentative kiss on her cheek. It was a position that was typical to them. Their teasing could go on for hours if they wish, but it rarely does because one of them would act upset, prompting the other to hug them from behind and shower them with fake apologies that were sweeter than Tavvy’s chocolates. It was a gesture that was typical for them. It should be, but Emma’s strained breathing and the butterflies in Julian’s stomach say otherwise. Still, he starts running a hand through her hair. 

“It’s not your fault.” 

They don’t move until Emma finishes painting. 

“I do love the ocean.” She says after putting her paintbrush down. 

Emma takes Julian’s hand and pulls him towards the window. They somehow end up in each other’s arms; Julian with an arm around her waist and a hand rubbing circles on her back, while Emma braces her hands against his chest. 

“Tell me.” He whispers into her ear. She looks up at him and her eyes arrest him in his place. The hand on her back stills. 

“I hate the ocean because it took my parents from me and I’m afraid of the ocean at night because I have nightmares of what killed my parents.” Her breath stuttered as she inhaled. The hand on her back comes back to life. 

“But I also love it, I love seeing it when the sun is out because I can see its blue-green color and it reminds me of your eyes —— it reminds me of you, ” They both pause. Emma swallows. 

“And I love you, so...” She avoids his eyes, but doesn’t pull away. 

It’s a while before Julian presses their foreheads together, making her look at him. 

“I love you.” He whispers back, his face redder than the clouds outside. Emma slowly smiles. 

Julian removes her lower lip between her teeth with his thumb, and gathers enough courage during the process to place his mouth against hers. Emma sighs against the kiss, her body relaxing enough for her to curve into him. Her hands migrate towards his hair, twisting the strands between her fingers and drawing him deeper into the kiss. Julian pushes Emma against the window, one hand interlacing their fingers together while the other cups her face. 

The languid kissing was stoking the pleasurable fire that had Emma’s toes curling in satisfaction, the quiet moan was proof and Julian’s throaty giggle did the opposite of helping. 

They could’ve stayed in their warm and intimate bubble uninterrupted, alas —- they were interrupted. 

“Finally!” They jumped apart at the sound of Livvy’s voice. 

“What are you doing here?” Julian aimed for a chastising look, but the messy hair, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips ruined the effect. 

“We needed some things for our project.” Ty and Kit were rubbing the sleep from their bleary eyes behind Livvy, but Julian didn’t miss Kit’s smirk or Ty’s inquisitive look. At the mention of their project, both boys went ahead to grab said supplies. Livvy kept staring at them, she was too giddy at the prospect of Julian and Emma finally dating. Emma recognized the look on her face as the younger Blackthorn wore whenever she got roped into watching romcoms with her. 

“Livia.” Emma warned, she only beamed —- the mischief behind her eyes was clear as day. 

She turned and dashed out of the room, Julian grabbed her hand as they chased Livvy throughout the house. 

“JULIAN AND EMMA KISSED! JULIAN AND EMMA KISSED!” The house came alive in an instant. 

Emma glanced back towards the art room, catching a glimpse of a new painting of her that was propped up on Julian’s easel before she was pulled down the stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> first work outside my herongraystairs series! I am acquiring ... The Range
> 
> thanks for reading, kudos and comments are appreciated and encouraged!!! Come find me on tumblr! my writing blog is @sleepie-scribbles and my main one is @sleepy-sendhelp 💓


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